


Jim and Bones Fills

by AgeOfAlejandro



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Alternate Universe - Car Theives, Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Community: jim_and_bones, Ice Skating, Los Angeles, M/M, References to eating disorders, Retirement, alternate universe - wild west, gaila the rockstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgeOfAlejandro/pseuds/AgeOfAlejandro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old fills from the Jim_and_Bones community on LJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Roman AU - Caesar and Tiberius

**Author's Note:**

> Jim and Bones is here: http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com

It was a pleasant day for a day at the Colosseum, not yet blistering summer and a breeze whispered through the city. Caesar had been unable to attend a gladiator match for quite some time, kept away by his duties, and he was looking forward to what was supposed to be the best match of the year, featuring Khan, an old favorite, and a new man, who had been cutting a swath through the ranks at an astounding speed. He was supposed to be impressive, and, Caesar had heard, very handsome indeed.  
  
He lounged under a canopy, a few friends at his side, on the very front row. Khan made his appearance and smirked at the booing of the crowd. The fellow was a showman born and played at being a villain, clanging the flat of his sword on his shield and roaring with mocking laughter right back at the audience.   
  
The other man, called Tiberius, was a double sword fighter, and he sauntered into the arena, his charun - a man called Pike - at his side, as if he didn't have a care in the world. He was tall, pale as Carrara marble and blonde, and he moved with the grace of a seasoned fighter. Tiberius pinned brilliantly blue eyes on Caesar as they approached to pay their respects to the emperor. Caesar found himself intrigued by the defiance in those eyes, hidden under the lackadaisical attitude. Caesar offered him a mocking smile and Tiberius, incredibly, returned it. The emperor's interest deepened as he signaled the beginning of the fight.  
  
Both men were good, very good. The fight was near technical perfection mixed with the right amount of showmanship. Khan used his impressively broad physique to his advantage, but Tiberius was both faster, younger, and a bit better of a swordsman, and the battle lasted a surprisingly long time. Caesar had watched Khan quite a few times before and he usually beat the other man within ten minutes or so, but this was closing in on twenty.  
  
The crowd loved every second, cheering Kirk on relentlessly as Kirk wore Khan down and pressed his advantage when there was a break in his rhythm, finally knocking his sword, then his shield away.  
  
Khan stepped back and surrendered, and looked to the crowd for their verdict. He received a unanimous thumbs down, signalling the end of his life, and he turned back to Kirk, straight backed and stoic.   
  
Tiberius tilted his head and studied him before sheathing his swords and walking away without killing Khan.  
  
Caesar was puzzled and instructed that his personal physician see to Tiberius, and that he be brought to the palace for an interview.

* * *

Tiberius was wary as he was lead to where Caesar lounged amid pillows and stood surprisingly still when it was just the two of them and a servant girl.  
  
"Wine?" he asked, indicating that the girl should offer him a goblet. He smiled when, after a second's hesitation, the gladiator accepted. "You know you sealed your own fate, when you spare Khan against the crowd's whim?" he added without preamble. "No others will grant you that...mercy, I suppose. And Khan himself was shamed by it and will try to kill you, probably."  
  
Tiberius said nothing, choosing to sip his wine instead.  
  
"I can spare you that fate, if you wish." Caesar studied the man in the flickering torch light. "I could in fact buy you out, and no man would dare to kill the Caesar's personal gladiator."  
  
"I want my freedom, Caesar. Nothing more, nothing less," Tiberius said boldly, the defiance in his eyes no long shrouded.   
  
"I advise you to refrain from such displays in the future, _slave_ ," Caesar said coolly. "I do not offer these things often and I suggest you take advantage of my generosity while you have my favor."  
  
"What about when I fall out of your favor, Caesar? What will I do then?"  
  
"You'll continue to be my personal gladiator, or, if you've proven worthy, I'll free you. Or maybe I'll sell you. I don't know. But the fact remains that you're likely to die at the hands of Khan or another gladiator in the future if you don't take me up on my offer."  
  
Tiberius studied him carefully, and asked in a semi-conciliatory tone, "What do you get out of this?"  
  
"Amusement? You know how we Romans are, I'm sure. But," he gave Tiberius an obvious once over, "there are other things, if that's what you would prefer."  
  
Tiberius's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching amusingly. "I'm afraid I have to turn you down, Caesar. I would prefer not to trade my current instability for another, which will end up with me dead all the same when you tire of me."  
  
"How unfortunate for you, then," Caesar drawled lazily, leaning back into his pillows and making up his mind, "that you're getting it anyway."  
  
The slave's jaw clenched again and he stood stiffly, waiting for his dismissal.  
  
Caesar smirked. "Gather up your things, such as they may be," he said and called for a lackey. "Your new home is here." Caesar opened his arms in a mocking gesture of welcome.  
  
Tiberius was fuming. It was amusing, and Caesar looked forward to his new property's frustration and fury. This was going to be something new, certainly, and he hoped Tiberius wouldn't wear out too fast, because this was going to be great fun.  
  
He was looking forward to it.


	2. Radio: In Which Leonard is Difficult and Jim Makes a Surprise Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well?" the other man prompts. "Is it true?"
> 
> "Why would a big time action star like Jim Kirk get romantically involved with an indie actor like me?" Leonard asks in return. "Hell, I rarely even get to do vid interviews."

"So," the radio DJ asks, "can I get you to talk about it?"  
  
"What's 'it'?" Leonard drawls, eying the man on the other side of the glass. He knows perfectly well what the kid means, but he sort of enjoyed leading the press around by the nose when given the opportunity by playing dumb. This is not a topic where he really can, but still.   
  
"You know," Sulu says meaningfully, "your relationship."  
  
"With whom?" Leonard asks idly, leaning back in the office chair and watching Sulu make faces at him.   
  
"Aww, come on, Leonard!" Sulu says with a laugh that isn't reflected in his face. He's looking petulant, knowing full well that Leonard is fucking with him. "Jim Kirk! Rumor has it that you two are an item."  
  
"So I hear," he agrees amicably, smiling a little at the thought of Jim's reaction to the rumors when they first heard them. It had involved an exaggeratedly sloppy kiss in front of their friends, and Jim had even kicked a heel up before grinning at their audience.  
  
"Well?" the other man prompts. "Is it true?"  
  
"Why would a big time action star like Jim Kirk get romantically involved with an indie actor like me?" Leonard asks in return. "Hell, I rarely even get to do _vid_ interviews."  
  
"Jim has dated weirder," Sulu points out. Leonard still finds it strange when people who don't know either him or Jim use their first names so casually. He's half convinced it's a California thing. "Like that garage band punk girl, Gaila."  
  
"Gaila and the Green Girls are hardly a garage band," Leonard says patiently. They really aren't. Gaila is a rock goddess, up there with Stevie Nicks and Janis Joplin.  
  
Sulu shrugs. "Still. He's dated some really weird people."  
  
Gaila, love her though Leonard does, _is_ weird, and is so in the tradition of the grand old dame of pop, Lady Gaga. She _revels_ in it, but at least she skips the dildo heels and the meat dress. "Your point?" he asks.  
  
The DJ looks frustrated but it doesn't show in his voice. "That it wouldn't be too odd for Jim to be dating an indie star, given his past partners."  
  
"Action star plus weirdo punk rock goddess makes more sense than action star plus indie actor," Leonard replies dryly.  
  
"So that's a no, then?" Sulu asks. There's juuust a little bit of relief at having gotten an answer in his tone.  
  
"Did I say that?" Leonard will admit that it's getting a little childish now. "Ok really, I'm going to plead the fifth for now. Though I can tell you we think they're funny."  
There's a loud _taptaptap_ on the hall glass and he turned to see a grinning Jim, who waved first at him and then at Sulu.   
  
"Why," Sulu says excitedly, "I believe we have Jim Kirk himself in the building!" He waves Jim into Leonard's sound cubicle and flips the switch that to let both them and the listeners hear what he was saying. "Can we convince you to hang out with us for a while, Jim?"  
  
Jim is busy pushing Leonard over a little so he can perch on the chair too, but he nods. "Why the hell not? But I gotta warn you, I might steal Bones here a bit earlier than his publicist and your listeners would like."  
  
"That's ok by us, I think!" Sulu replies as Jim drops down on half of Leonard's seat. "We get both critically acclaimed Leonard McCoy and the legendary Jim Kirk for a little while, so that's a fair trade."  
  
Jim looks at Leonard as he put his sunglasses on the desk and grins. "I don't think anyone's ever called me legendary before."  
  
"Mmm, well," Leonard says. "Don't let it go to your head. It doesn't need to get any bigger. And there's a chair over there, Jim."  
  
"You _wound_ me," Jim tells him. He taps his chest, just above his heart. "Right here." He completely ignores Leonard's chair oriented suggestion and pulls off his cream colored suit jacket, draping it on his lap and neatly rolling up his sleeves.  
  
"Poor baby. However shall you survive?" Leonard says dryly, meaningfully looking at the furniture in question.

"I'm happy just like this." Jim gives him the kind of smile that usually promises sex and he arches an eyebrow in return, aware of Sulu's sharp eyes. Jim's smile turns mischievous and he steals Leonard's headphones; it was fortunate that they had been loosely on his head or he'd be missing his ears.   
"Sulu," he says and looks at the DJ, "can I have a new pair of headphones, please? Jim's a thieving bastard."  
  
Sulu laughs and nods. "We'll be right back, folks!" he says and swaps over to commercial before getting up to find another pair.  
  
Jim has put on the headphones by now and is giving him an innocent look, his hands folded neatly on the desk. Leonard reaches up and snaps one speaker against his ear, smirking when Jim gives him a scandalized look. He glances up to check on Sulu, who is still rummaging around a closet, and tugs off the earphones to murmur softly. "He's gonna ask you about the rumors, probably."  
  
"What do you want me to say?" Jim asks just as quietly, his expression neutral.  
  
"I don't know...we never really talked about that."  
  
"Let's tell the truth, then."  
  
Leonard gives him a soft smile. "All right," he says. "But seriously, the chair's only big enough for one of us."  
  
Jim is about to reply when the door between the cubicles opens and the DJ enters the room to plug in Leonard's headphones. Leonard stands up and grabs the other chair, pushing Jim's chair over with a smooth roll of his hip against the back.  
  
When he's settled down again, Jim gives him a pouty look, tinged with envy. "How do you do that?"  
  
Leonard waits until Sulu is done with whatever setting up he had to do with the headphones and has left the room before he gives Jim a smirk. "I'd be happy to show you later," he says quietly as  
  
"Yes, please," Jim replies, looking please.  
  
"Ready, gentlemen?" Sulu asks, looking smug and amused. When they both nod, he says, "And we're back! Today, we have Leonard McCoy, star of the recent indie hit _All Souls_ , and a surprise guest, Jim Kirk!"

* * *

Gaila chuckles at him, lounging in the pool on a silver heart floatie and sipping a drink as they arrive. "I hear you called me a weirdo in that interview of yours," she says and peers at him over the lenses of her incongruously pink sunglasses with amusement.  
  
"He said it first," Leonard points out, sitting down on the edge of the pool and dangling his legs in the water idly, feeling Jim lurk behind him.  
  
She awkwardly half dog-paddles toward them on the floatie and pushes her drink into Leonard's hand as she turns over, her peacock-colored bikini glittering metallic in the LA sun. Tucking curly red tresses behind her ear, she took back her drink.  
  
"That's not alcoholic, is it?" he asks her, his voice tinged with warning. "And how was Berlin?"  
  
Gaila rolled her eyes at him as Jim settled down next to him. "Of course not. Berlin was fine. _Anyway,_ " she says and heaves a put upon sigh. "Tell me about that interview."  
  
Leonard ignores Jim's snickering. "I'm sure you heard it."  
  
"I heard you fucking with that poor DJ for like fifteen minutes," Gaila says in reply, reaching out one handedly to punch Jim's shoulder without looking at him.  
  
"Hey," Jim protests.  
  
"Shut up, then." Gaila hasn't stopped looking at Leonard, and she knows he'll eventually answer her if she keeps staring at him. "Well?"  
  
Leonard sighed and Jim started snickering again until Leonard pushed him into the pool. "Anyway," he said to Gaila over Jim's squawks.


	3. Jim and Bones Steal Cars for a Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The trick," Leonard said evenly, surveying the car they were practicing on (though only he knew that), "is to look like you belong."
> 
> Jim, his boss's newest protege, nodded. "Act like this is your car," he said, blue eyes intent on Leonard.

"The trick," Leonard said evenly, surveying the car they were practicing on (though only he knew that), "is to look like you belong."   
  
Jim, his boss's newest protege, nodded. "Act like this is your car," he said, blue eyes intent on Leonard.  
  
"Good," Leonard agreed. "Dress the part if you're doing it open air. No one will look twice at a suit or a valet, if that's the situation, but they _will_ look at a scruffy guy in a tshirt sniffing around a nice car," he said, gesturing at himself. "Basically, don't draw attention to yourself - you need to be totally unremarkable." Shifting and cocking his hip out, he and crossed his arms and added, "Now, tell me what you see. What can you take advantage of?"  
  
Circling the car, Jim studied it, tilting his head back and forth before he stopped next to Leonard. "To start with, the driver side window is down enough to hook the lock and then there's the matter of the door not being all the way closed."  
  
"Good. Is there anything else?"  
  
Jim nodded again and opened his mouth.  
  
"This one's not a test run, Jim," Leonard reminded him quietly as the pair strode up the hill toward their target car, dressed to fit in with the hipster prep atmosphere of this part of town. "I'm just watching this time, and if you get caught, you better hope the boss is in a good enough mood to bail your ass out."  
  
"I know, I know," Jim grumbled, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "I got you the hundredth time you said it."  
  
Leonard rolled his eyes. "And you got it easy - it's just a convertible in a relatively quite place."  
  
"What, did you have to go uphill both ways in the snow to get to yours?" Jim replied with an eyeroll of his own.  
  
"No," Leonard said. "It was a Ferrari in the Paramount lot."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I guess they had faith in you?" Jim asked, somewhat awkwardly, fluidly swiveling his hips to avoid a couple going the other way on the narrow sidewalk.  
  
"Or, more likely, Sweeney felt threatened and wanted me to fuck up," Leonard said, entering the cafe across the street from their target and deliberately not thinking about Jim and his hips. _I will not think about that, will not, will not._.  
 _Oh,_ a little voice murmured in the back of his mind, _but you are. And you will, until you either fuck him or he leaves._  
Leonard tried thinking about his former father in law in a bikini in a desperate attempt to avoid the deliciously filthy images trying to sneak under his guard. If that didn't do it, he was fucked.  
  
"Ah," Jim said, wresting him from his thoughts. "But you succeeded, right?"  
  
"Obviously," Leonard said dryly. "Now shut up."  
  
Jim shifted back and forth like a restless child as they waited in line for coffee. Which wasn't nerves on his part so much as his natural cracked-out squirreliness.  
Still, it was annoying.  
  
"Stop that," Leonard grumbled, putting his hand on Jim's shoulder. "I swear to god, even on a sugar high, my kid fidgets less than you do."  
  
He stilled under Leonard's hand and a smirk unfurled on his lips. "I can think of a few ways you can help me with that," Jim said, arching an eyebrow and giving him an appreciative once over.  
  
Leonard suddenly felt more self conscious than he had in years and he glared at Jim as he retrieved his hand. "Keep talkin' and I'll make sure those methods won't work for _you_ for at least a week," he said, stepping up behind the next customer.

Jim grimaced. "You wouldn't follow through on that, would you, Bones?"  
  
"Would you like to find out?" Leonard replied, raising his eyebrow. He had long given up on getting Jim to use his actual name. "What do you want to drink?"  
  
"Ah, no. And I'll have an upside down carmel macchiato," Jim said.  
  
"You and your goddamn froufrou drinks." Leonard shook his head. "I will never understand the desire to drink diabetes in a cup, especially the way you do it."  
  
"Some of us are more adventurous than you are," Jim said. "All you drink is black coffee, or if you're feeling fancy," he lifted his hands, palms out, and waved them sarcastically, " _espresso_."  
  
Leonard sniffed in mocking disdain. "You're an ill bred heathen with bad taste, and not just in coffee."  
  
"Ooooh," Jim said, grinning. "Even in men?" he asked, nudging Leonard as they stepped up to the counter.  
  
Instead of allowing what he was sure was Jim joshing to get to him, Leonard replied with an arched, disdainful eyebrow before looking at the barista. "Small black coffee, Colombian if you have it, and diabetes in a cup for him," he said, waving a hand at Jim.  
  
Who rolled his eyes. "Small iced upside down carmel macchiato, and coat the inside, please."  
  
The barista nodded cheerfully and scratched out Jim's drink order on a cup before getting Leonard's drink. As he paid the girl (and tipped her when she wasn't looking), Jim scurried over to the serving counter to wait for his revoltingly sweet drink, grinning hugely as he watched another barista coat the inside of his cup with golden carmel, catching fresh espresso in it and swirling it around before adding yet more carmel.   
If they weren't attempting to keep a low profile, Leonard would tell her to dump the entire bottle in the cup.  
  
When they had gotten their drinks, they settled down at a table with a clear view of Jim's target. They couldn't stay long, but Jim did need a chance to observe. Subtly watching the car, Jim chattered at Leonard while he worked on the _New York Times_ crossword and sipped his coffee between conversation-encouraging grunts.   
That is, until Jim leaned over and, mid-sentence, answered one of the clues. "...the answer's Venus and Adonis, anyway, so I was talking to one of my neighbors - one of the Dukes of Hazard - and he was telling me that the Yahoo is gonna rip out his lawn and pave over the yard!"  
  
Leonard looked at him, slightly incredulous. He knew Jim wasn't stupid, but obscure poems? Holding up a finger to make Jim stop yapping, he said, "First, I can't keep your insulting nicknames for your neighbors straight, second, why does it matter if he rips out the grass? Also, you actually say 'yahoo'? And third, Shakespeare?"  
  
"The Dukes of Hazard are the rednecks with like five dune buggies across the street, and the Yahoo is the asshole who threatened to shoot Gaila's oh-so-scary dog. It's a teacup chihuahua, Bones. _Teacup. Chihuahua,_ " he said, thumping his fist on the table for emphasis. "A suitably annoyed toddler could punt one over a fence, easy. Keenser's not even particularly loud, and yet he threatened to shoot him. And while a paved-over lawn provides many excellent opportunities to draw dicks on his yard, I also have to look at it the rest of the time."  
  
"You _would_ draw dicks," Leonard said and shook his head. "It's like you never left high school sometimes."  
  
Jim just gave him a sunny grin. "And yeah, Shakespeare. Totally amused me to read erotica in high school English and not have my teachers either ask what I was reading or even know which one it was, in the unlikely event they did."

Leonard rolled his eyes again and Jim's grin broadened. "What are you gonna do if they get stuck like that? The boss man won't let you work anymore and you'll be left with me, and only me, to support you."  
  
Rolling up the newspaper, Leonard smacked the side of his head. "Not now."  
  
Jim heaved a sigh and drained the rest of his drink. "When then?" he asked, eyes briefly pinning Leonard to the wall behind him before turning back to the straw he was slowly tying into chewed up knots.  
  
Leonard was sure he wasn't reading Jim right, because he looked like he meant it. Jim never meant anything on that score. The man went through what seemed like the entire underworld of LA in the course of three months. If they were attractive, the authorities weren't looking too hard at them, and not hopped up on coke or drunk when he fucked them, they were a night's fair game. Leonard didn't want that, because that wasn't who he was at this point in his life. If there was going to be anything between them, which he did want, it was going to have to mean something.   
And Jim probably wouldn't want that.  
So he settled on silence and a raised eyebrow, allowing Jim to interpret that as he pleased.  
  
Jim searched his eyes for a long moment and then his own dimmed almost imperceptibly. He offered Leonard that brilliant, empty smile of his before looking away. "Ought to get going," he said quietly, standing up and grabbing his empty cup before leaving.  
  
Leonard almost said something, almost reached out to stop him, but drew back and sighed. He rested his head on his hands as Jim exited the cafe and then unrolled his paper, going back to the crossword. This was the moment Jim would sink or swim by his own accord, after long instruction and as many dry runs as he had been able to force on Jim before Pike intervened. Leonard picked up his pen and tried to watch Jim out of his peripheral vision while looking like he was actually doing something. Usually, that was something he was pretty good at, but not right now. Jim had meant it.   
Maybe he could salvage this, if Jim pulled this off.


	4. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard nodded and went back to brushing his teeth, letting silence descend again. It was the kind of silence typically associated with foggy mornings with no where to go, where breaking it with words or deliberate noise was somehow wrong. He often thought it was the best kind of quiet.

Leonard stared at himself in the mirror, contemplating getting his hair cut and wondering where those white hairs came from (from Jim, obviously, but when?). He reached for his tooth brush and lined it up with the rest of his morning toiletries before picking up his razor (he never did hold with beard suppressants and preferred not to mess with his hormones when he didn't have to) and starting shaving.  
  
When he reached for his tooth brush again, though, he felt a warm body line up against his back and wrap arms around his torso. There was only one person on the ship (possibly the galaxy) with the balls to do that this early in the morning, and he felt Jim smile against his shoulder.  
"You're awake, I see."  
  
"Mhm," Jim agreed and kissed his shoulder affectionately.  
  
Leonard laced his fingers with the ones resting above his hip for a moment and turned in Jim's arms. "Ought to go back to bed while you can."  
  
Jim shook his head. "Not sleepy."  
  
Leonard nodded and went back to brushing his teeth, letting silence descend again. It was the kind of silence typically associated with foggy mornings with no where to go, where breaking it with words or deliberate noise was somehow wrong. He often thought it was the best kind of quiet.  
  
Jim shifted to allow him to rinse and spit, but wrapped himself around Leonard again the moment he stood upright. Leonard thought he should be irritated by this, and ordinarily would have been, but something about this kind of silence forbade loud emotions, too. So, instead he smiled and squeezed Jim's hand again, smiling at him in the mirror.


	5. Glass Boxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard was woken up by his comm chiming loudly next to his ear. He glared at it, hoping it would stop sometime soon so he could go back to sleep.  
> Unfortunately for him, it didn't and after fifteen or twenty chimes, Leonard gave in.
> 
> "What?" he demanded of the caller.
> 
> "Bones," Jim sounded small and embarrassed. "I need your help."

Leonard was woken up by his comm chiming loudly next to his ear. He glared at it, hoping it would stop sometime soon so he could go back to sleep.  
Unfortunately for him, it didn't and after fifteen or twenty chimes, Leonard gave in.  
  
"What?" he demanded of the caller.  
  
"Bones," Jim sounded small and embarrassed. "I need your help."  
  
Leonard sat up and scrubbed his face. "What now?"  
  
"I need you to come get me," Jim replied.   
  
"I should just leave you there, wherever you are," Leonard said. "It'd serve you right for wakin' me up at ass o'clock to rescue you from some stupid stunt of yours," he added, getting up to search for clothing. "Better not be bailin' you out of jail, Jim."  
  
The line is quiet for a moment. "You're not and I'm sorry, Bones. Please come get me? I wouldn't ask if I didn't need you."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Leonard muttered in reply, ignoring the peculiar tone of Jim's last words as he spied a pair of wearable jeans on his laundry pile. "Where the fuck are you?" he asked, pulling them on and reaching for a handy button up.  
  
"Pier twenty three, toward the back of the dock," Jim replied.  
  
Leonard groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. That was much further than he was really willing to go right now. The things he did for Jim. "Do I need my med kit?"  
  
"No," Jim replied.  
  
"Good," Leonard said. Glancing in the mirror, he decided his hair looked presentable enough for three in the morning. "Be there soon."  
  
Closing his comm, he made his way to the nearest transit station, finding himself enjoying the shrouded stillness of the fog from the Bay.   
  
When the transit came to his stop, he climbed off and wondered how exactly to find Jim in the thick fog.  
"Jim!" he called. "Where the hell are you?"  
  
There was no reply and he frowned, reaching for his comm.  
  
"Bones," Jim greeted, "are you here yet?"  
  
"Yeah," Leonard replied. "Now where are you?"  
  
"Left side of the dock, under a lamp" Jim said quickly, sounding a bit embarrassed, and hung up.  
  
Leonard pulled the comm away from him and glared at it, contemplating leaving Jim in the fog instead.  
  
Two hundred or so meters down the dock, he found a large glass box under a light. As he approached, something began to hammer on it and he paused.  
  
"Jim?"  
  
There was a loud, muffled answer before his comm went off again.  
  
"I'm here!" Jim said when Leonard answered. "Please tell me that's you."  
  
"It is," Leonard agreed, stopping before the box. "How do I get you out?" he asked, wiping away fog from the surface and fighting a grin. Only Jim would get himself locked up in a box of glass on an old pier.  
  
A hand ferociously rubbed a circle of fog off the inside of the box and Jim's face appeared. Jim glared at Leonard when he almost dropped his comm laughing.  
  
"Who did that?" Leonard asked, almost wheezing. Jim looked like a cartoon, with bad spray-tan orange skin and colorful, hugely exaggerated eyes. "I need to buy them a beer!"  
  
Jim's glaring increased and said, "I'll tell you when you let me out."  
  
"And how do I do that?" Leonard asked, reigning in his laughter. "Should I have gotten a glass cutter?"  
  
"No," Jim replied, "there's a handle on the other side of the box." He pointed behind him and flattened a hand against the glass. "Please? I wanna go home."  
  
"Like I would leave you when I came all the way here already," Leonard replied before circling the box. Sure enough, there was a door handle. He opened it and Jim spilled out into the cool morning air, jamming his comm into his pocket as he went.  
  
"Thanks," Jim said with an embarrassed smile.   
  
"You're welcome," Leonard replied, trying not to snicker. "How long were you in there?"

"Too damn long," Jim muttered. "Tried to get the door open on my own, couldn't. Almost took my comm apart to get something more to work with but thought I should try to get a hold of help first." He turned earnest, larger-looking-than-usual eyes on Leonard. "I really am sorry you had to come out here. I knew you had a busy, hellish day, and I didn't want to bother you, so I tried everyone else first before I called."  
  
Leonard reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly. "And you know I always come."  
  
Jim studied him and then smiled. "Thank you," he said quietly.  
  
"Any time," Leonard said sincerely and squeezed his shoulder again. "Now, are you gonna tell me who did that?" he asked lightly.  
  
"Only if you promise to help me exact my revenge," Jim replied, his voice equally light as he continued to examine Leonard.  
  
Leonard hummed in response. "Maybe. Depends on context," he said, heading back toward the street. When Jim didn't move, he turned around. "You comin' or not?"  
  
Jim smiled a rare kind of smile, one that was peace and quiet happiness made real and something Leonard saw too damn little of. "Yeah," he said and caught up with Leonard. "The thing of it was was that I lost a bet to Gaila, and then, well, things got out of hand."  
  
"And you ended up in a glass box on a semi-abandoned pier."  
  
"Yep. Anyway," Jim started, "Jack had gotten Romulan ale and..."


	6. Horned Toads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hurried up to her, practically grinning has he extended his palm to show her something. "Look, Jo! We found some of them horned toads Scotty was tellin' us about!" he said, peering up at her from under his hat.
> 
> She eyed it politely, watching it look back at her disinterestedly, and nodded to her father. "So I see," she said, sarcasm very lightly touching her voice. "Are we gonna collect some of 'em to keep 'round the ranch to keep those ants down?"

Joanna perched on the front porch's railing, kicking her legs idly and watching her father and Jim chase something in the dirt in front of Spock's house. She sometimes thought her old man ought to have been a naturalist instead of a doctor, given how uncharacteristically excited he got around wild animals and new plants. She was also pretty sure the two of them were going to give themselves sun poisoning at this rate, running around in the middle of a desert summer afternoon.  
  
He hurried up to her, practically grinning has he extended his palm to show her something. "Look, Jo! We found some of them horned toads Scotty was tellin' us about!" he said, peering up at her from under his hat.  
  
She eyed it politely, watching it look back at her disinterestedly, and nodded to her father. "So I see," she said, sarcasm very lightly touching her voice. "Are we gonna collect some of 'em to keep 'round the ranch to keep those ants down?"  
  
"Might be a good idea, yeah," he agreed, amusing Joanna because this was an _afterthought_ for him - he'd chase the lizards just to get a good look at one, with no thought to their potential uses. "Don't want them gettin' into the animal feed anymore and god help us if they turn out to be one of the things that make Jim sick," her father added, absently petting the lizard in his hand.  
  
Joanna raised an eyebrow. "I got bit and it hurt like the devil, but I'm ok," she pointed out.  
  
"Baby," her father said, "just about everything under the sun makes that man sick." He sighed. "Anyway, take this one," he said, gesturing for her to retrieve the animal from his hand, "and Jim and I'll go find us some more before we go."  
  
Joanna nodded and petted the lizard absently as she watched him join Jim again. They made her smile, especially when Jim tackled her father to the ground and the whole thing turned into them laughing and wrestling in the dust instead of looking for more horned horned frogs. She didn't entirely know how Jim came to join them, but he made her grumpy old man smile (sometimes, anyway), and she was glad to have him just for that.   
  
Her father pinned Jim beneath him, breathless with laughter and exertion. "Say uncle!"  
  
Jim gave him a sweet smile. "No," he said, and deftly flipped them over. He smiled even sweeter. "Give up?"  
  
"No," her father shot back, writhing like a snake under his friend in his attempts to escape. Jim just grinned as he easily rode out the bucking and twisting, not budging an inch. Eventually, her father gave up and gave Jim a halfhearted glare. "Oughtn't we be hunting for lizards?"  
  
"You're such a sore loser," Jim said with an eye roll as he got off her father. "Let's go find you some horned frogs."  
  
Her father rolled his eyes right back. "Joanna," he called. "See if you can get a box from Spock or Nyota, would you?"  
  
"Sure, Daddy," she replied and hopped down from her perch to comply, her hand held high to save the lizard from the jolt, and leaving them to bicker in the sun.


	7. On Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones grinned at Jim, smoothly gliding across the ice with his arms tucked behind his back. "Weren't you the one who grew up in Iowa? Land of the ice and snow?" he asked, easily turning as he circled the other man.
> 
> Jim shot him a glare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the Hot and Cool flash challenge of July 2011

Bones grinned at Jim, smoothly gliding across the ice with his arms tucked behind his back. "Weren't you the one who grew up in Iowa? Land of the ice and snow?" he asked, easily turning as he circled the other man.  
  
Jim shot him a glare. "Mom wouldn't let us skate on the pond out back. Too rough, she said."  
  
"So? Why didn't y'all go skating at a rink?"  
  
"Riverside," Jim informed him, "is the ass-end of Iowa. The nearest rink was three towns away, and my mom wasn't gonna take us all the way out there."  
  
Bones came to a smooth stop in front of Jim. "Here, lemme teach you," he said, "You've got the balance part; you just don't know how to move."  
  
Jim pursed his lips briefly, looking annoyed as Bones moved behind him, resting his hands on his hips for the moment. "I still can't believe you got me out here."  
  
"I went out into space for you," Bones said. "The ice isn't so bad. You need to shift your weight forward a little," he said, gently encouraging Jim to lean with his thumbs on Jim's back.  
  
Jim rolled his eyes and mentally sighed, following the directions. And before long, he could actually skate. He wasn't as graceful yet as Bones, but he was getting there. He tried to ignore Bones's smug grin.


	8. Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As I recall, you interfered with a lot of things over the years that made me happy and got me moving," Jim replied, letting Leonard lead him.
> 
> "Generally," Leonard said, "things I interfered with tended to get you punched or an allergic reaction or drunk off your ass. So, no regrets," he added, pushing Jim through the door and closing it behind them with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same challenge

Jim sighed contentedly, stretching out lazily under the water with his eyes closed. Leonard found himself smiling, watching his partner enjoy himself so much.   
  
On cue, Jim looked up and gave him an inviting smile. "The water's fine, Bones. You ought to climb in with me."  
  
Leonard let Jim think that he was actually considering refusing the invitation before sliding down into their pool next to him. "Got all summer, so why not?" he asked rhetorically, reaching for Jim's hand and threading their fingers together.   
  
Jim nodded absently before peering at him through his lashes. "Pool sex?"  
  
Leonard gave him a look. "No. Too old for that, and I ain't gonna spend any part of the summer in the hospital because you broke your hip doin' something stupid like that."  
  
He got a none-too-gentle poke for that. "You'd be the one to break a hip, old man."  
  
"I'm not the one who broke ninety percent of the bones in his body," Leonard replied, sliding his hand into Jim's again. "And Jack and Cassidy'll be here soon anyway, and I will not have sex in the same pool my grandkids'll be swimmin' in."  
  
"I hadn't considered that," Jim said. They fell silent, sitting side by side, listening to the birds in the trees, and the gentle lapping of the water against the side of the pool, and watching the golden, dying light as the sun started to set. "We're turning into prunes," he observed as the solar lights flicked on, examining his wrinkled figertips.  
  
Leonard shrugged. "We'll survive," he said and dropped a kiss on his shoulder. "Ought to go in, though, anyway. I don't want either of us to slip in the dark."  
  
"Neither of us are actually old enough or frail enough to break something," Jim half grumbled, getting up and waiting for Leonard to follow suit.  
  
Chuckling, Leonard nodded. "I know. But still, bruises on your ass are a mood killer."  
  
Jim cocked an eyebrow, that inviting grin appearing again as he waded toward the steps. "So, are we going in or what?" he asked when Leonard hadn't moved.  
  
"Yeah," Leonard agreed, easily catching up with Jim. Jim might be younger, but Leonard was more spry.  
  
When he caught Jim looking back at the pool as they walked through their backdoor, he added, "It'll be there tomorrow, Jim."  
  
Jim gave him a smile. "I know." He looked pleased. "I'm glad I finally convinced you to get a pool."  
  
"Mmm, well, it makes you happy and gets you exercising again, so who am I to interfere?" he said with a smile of his own, tugging the lollygagging Jim toward their room.  
  
"As I recall, you interfered with a lot of things over the years that made me happy and got me moving," Jim replied, letting Leonard lead him.  
  
"Generally," Leonard said, "things I interfered with tended to get you punched or an allergic reaction or drunk off your ass. So, no regrets," he added, pushing Jim through the door and closing it behind them with a smirk.


	9. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today was the twentieth anniversary of Jim's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this day's prompt: http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/430732.html

  
Leonard's dream shifted, faded for a heartbeat, and settled into shades of grey. He paused, suddenly aware of what this was.  
  
 _"Bones!" Jim called to him, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth as he slowly rode ahead. "You coming or what?"_  
  
"Yeah, yeah, you infant," Leonard replied, unable to hold a smile as he messed with his boke. This was Jim, happy and young, one fall morning on the bay as the fog burned off. He stepped away from the contraption and gestured Jim closer. "C'mere."  
  
Jim gave him a mischievous look and turning around to pump the pedals hard, the wind making his hood flap at his back as he raced right at Leonard.  
  
Eyes widened, Leonard started to back up, only to stop when Jim gracefully swooped off to the side with a laugh. He went round and round in ever-tightening circles, a smile on his face.  
  
"That's not what 'come here' means," Leonard told him with a chuckle.   
  
"I know," Jim replied with a broad grin, slowing gradually. "I enjoy being difficult."  
  
Leonard rolled his eyes as Jim stopped in front of him, straddling his bike as a breeze swept in off the sea, his hair dancing in the wind.  
  
Leonard closed the distance between them and pulled him into a kiss, wrapping his arms around Jim tightly.  
  
Jim's hands clasped Leonard's bicep and shoulder, and they stood there for a brief moment before he leaned back. "What was that for?" He looked happy and a little confused. "Not that I'm complaining."  
  
"I miss you," Leonard replied. He leaned in for a brief kiss, running a hand under Jim's sweater. "I love you."  
  
Jim smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Love you, too."  
  
Leonard wished this was real, that he could go back to this October morning, their second year at the Academy.  
  
Jim faded in Leonard's arms as he woke up, disappointment and sorrow washing through him. He sat up in bed, swallowing hard.   
  
Today was the twentieth anniversary of Jim's death. He had died under Leonard's hands after Spock rescued him from a hostage situation. The aliens responsible tortured him almost to the brink of death, but he had still been conscious when they got him to sickbay. Jim had taken so much damage that Leonard couldn't save him, but he met Leonard's eyes and smiled a little before he faded away and the biobed flatlined for the last time.  
  
  
  
An hour later found him on the edge of the pier where they had ridden bikes that October morning, and he leaned the old fashioned bike against one of the tall posts. Listening to the water lap and jostle under the old wood beneath his feet, he slowly sat down on the edge, ignoring the way the cold made his old bones ache and dangling his feet over the edge.   
As he sipped a thermos of hot tea and leaned against the pier post, he imagined he could hear Jim's ringing laughter.


	10. LA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love LA possibly a little too much. From this day: http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/419646.html

**Things that everyone knows about LA:** half the population is ninety percent plastic, movie stars live there, and it's weird.  
 **Things everyone thinks they know about LA:** you see famous people everyday, it's all Hollywood Boulevard and Beverly Hills, and it's a strange place.  
 **Things everyone should know about LA:** it's dirty, most of the area is a fucking plastic dump, and it's a beautifully weird city.  
  
The important thing, obviously, is that it's strange.  
  
There's a couple ways that LA's an oddity, one of which is the Stepfordian nature of the city - the surface, the parts that everyone sees, they're all too good to be true. That tall, beautiful woman you see sliding out of the newest BMW model looks like she's on top of the world, doesn't she? She looks like she stepped out a high flying fashion mag (the kind you and I, dear reader, are too plebeian to even be aware of), she tells her friends stories about Easter in Tuscany with her husband, and walks like she's on top of the world.  
The truth is that she's not. She just pretends that she; she pretends that she's got good genes (she works out like a fiend and binges and purges to stay that size two), pretends her husband is the best man she's ever met (he's having an affair with her eighteen year old niece and that nice big rock on her finger's starting to feel heart-crushingly heavy), and pretends that she only drinks socially (oh, how we lie to ourselves).  
LA is this woman. She's a jet setting, trend setting, fortune telling, glamorous lady. She's also weary, held tenuously together by a million lies and a thousand reconstructive surgeries, and if you look at her, you can tell what the rest of the continent is going to be experiencing soon.  
  
She's beautiful all the same.  
  
  
  
LA's far more than just the original El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles del Río de Porciúncula. It's Long Beach and Whittier and a hundred other little cities that have been subsumed by the amoebic behemoth that is Los Angeles. It's a mixture of mountains and beach and farmland swimming in a heaving cityscape, which is never the same year to year. Cities were once built to last, to survive sieges and famine and war, but not anymore and especially not LA. It's changed more in the last three hundred years than every ancient city on Earth has in the last two thousand years. It went from being mostly farmland with scattered towns to a giant metropolis in the course of hundred years, and now it hops with Vulcans and Bajorans and even the odd Betazid (why an empath would voluntarily spend time in a place like LA is something to be pondered).  
LA is glitzy energetic youth and filthy, wheezing old age occupying the same space. A ten minute walk can take you from shopping malls with Versace and fashionable Risan-style spas to strip malls with Kevin's One Credit Stores and Orion massage parlors where twenty credits gets you a happy ending.  
Los Angeles is a fucking mindset. It's sly eyes in a blowup doll's face, a frail Don Quixote affectionately patronized by whores; it's understanding that under the pretty, there's a lot of ugly and sad, and that this is still beautiful.  
  
  
It was founded by a strange mixture of people, too, (Mestizos, Mulattoes, Native Americans, and a Chinese man records call "Chino"), and the people who live there now are an odd bunch, too. It attracts the rejects and weirdos, the cowards, those looking for a clean bit of plastic to settle down on, and those with a burning itch to be famous.

Jim is...most of these. He picked the hippy loam of San Fransisco to put down new roots instead of LA's plasticized offering, but he's a weirdo (growing up like he did will make you that way), a reject (the rebel son of a Federation hero is assumed by most everyone to not have earned the right to be at the Academy), a coward (running from new developments with Bones), and he desperately wants to make a name for himself _as_ himself.   
  
  
Aurelan pauses en route from her and Sam's bedroom when she spies Jim in the bathroom, and he can see her eyebrows rise in the mirror.  
  
"Damn," she says, eying him as he adjusts the collar of his charcoal suit jacket. "You clean up nice."  
  
Jim flashes a grin at her. "Why, thank you. You're not so bad yourself."  
  
She chuckles. "Did you pick that out? Because if you did, I want to know why Sam has no fashion sense."  
  
"No, my ex-girlfriend did, actually. Got me a good deal, too. Though the tie was a gift from a, a friend," Jim replies, choosing to push further thoughts about Bones out of his mind but unable not to acknowledge him. Today is about making a good impression on his brother's future in-laws on that they're finally on-planet, not being an emotional cripple.   
  
"'A friend'?" she asks, quirking an eyebrow at him and tucking curly brown hair behind an ear.  
  
"...It's complicated," Jim says, suspecting she'll try to drag it out of him if he says anything else.  
  
"I see." Aurelan looks skeptical, but lets it drop. "We're leaving as soon as your brother stops obsessively polishing his shoes."  
  
"He doesn't want to fuck this up," Jim tells her with a smile.  
  
"I know," she replies. "It's endearing. Annoyingly endearing. But," Aurelan casts a glance down the hall and her lips arch in a smile as she raises her voice, "that's pretty much Sam all over."  
  
"I heard that!" comes his brother's voice from down the hall. Jim hears Sam coming down the hall and can't help but grin.  
  
Aurelan laughs as Sam growls and pulls her close. "Jerk," he says.  
  
"Mhm," she agrees easily. "You love me anyway. Are you ready?" Aurelan asks, looking between her fiance and Jim. When the brothers nod, she leads the way out the front door and snags the keys from the bookcase by the door as she passes.  
  
  
They drive to a place in Long Beach Aurelan's mother particularly likes and meet up with her parents. Bruce and Margret are very nice people, Jim finds. Gracious and charming, and he thinks Sam could not have found a better family to marry into. He also does his best to make a good impression, and he and Sam weather the inevitable questions about their parents.  
  
"Mom's off planet doing deep space exploration right now," Jim says and Sam nods. "Not expecting to hear from her again for another two years or so."  
  
"Are you planning to put off the wedding until then?" Bruce asks Aurelan and Sam.  
  
They look at each other. "We haven't really set a date, but yeah, I expect so," Sam says.  
  
"When do you go ship out?" Aurelan asks Jim.  
  
"If everything goes according to plan, next year some time."  
  
Sam looks at him. "How likely is that?"  
  
"Pretty good," Jim tells him. "Summer session starts in three days, and then all I have left are a handful senior classes."  
  
Aurelan and Sam look at each other again for a moment. "We'll figure something out," she says to her parents. Bruce and Margret nod, and lunch goes on splendidly after that.  
  
  
They decide to do some wandering afterward, and it's hot. Margret makes Bruce carry a couple shopping bags she picks up along the way and Sam is turned into a pack animal by Aurelan. Jim stuffs his jacket into one the bags his brother is lugging along and when Sam glares, Jim gives him a full-wattage smile and scampers off to talk to his soon-to-be sister-in-law.   
  
"I hate you!" Sam calls after him, mildly annoyed.  
  
"We both know you'll make me baby sit your kids whenever I'm here, so I think you're getting off light," Jim replies over his shoulder, and laughs when Sam looks slightly mollified.  
  
Aurelan rolls her eyes and laughs. "So, are you going to tell me about your tie-giving friend?" she asks, gesturing at the piece of cloth in question and eying her parents as they window shop up the way.

Jim resists the urge to shift uncomfortably. "It's complicated, like I said."  
  
"Uh huh," she agrees. "I recall that conversation. Go on."  
  
He's known Aurelan for about a year now, and he's not sure he's comfortable talking to her about this. She knows _of_ Bones, because how can she not? Jim's completely (terrifyingly) head over heels for the man and he sometimes thinks he talks too much about him. "I," he starts and pauses. "I don't really want to talk about it. It boils down to me being stupid and a coward."  
  
She tilts her head consideringly. "I'd tell you to stop being an idiot and a coward, but it's never that simple. Is this," she asks, "about your doctor friend? You talk about him all the time, so I wonder--"  
  
"This isn't--" Jim interrupts, almost sharply, "I don't want to talk about it."  
  
She steps back and sighs. "I'm sorry, Jim. I thought getting you to talk about it might help, but I won't push anymore."  
  
He gives her a nod. "It's ok." A tight smile. "If talking about it could help, I don't think I'd be in this mess." Jim stops and lets her walk ahead, fully aware that she's probably embarrassed even more by this, but he _really_ doesn't want to talk about Bones. He knows full well he's probably destroyed any chance of something serious with Bones and that he's really hurt Bones. Jim doesn't want to be reminded of what he's in all likelihood lost due to his own fucking _stupidity_.  
  
Sam tends to dawdle when not prodded, so he's some way behind. Jim waits for him, and in the mean time, see a guy with a bottle of tamarind soda. Which piques his interest, because he loves auguas frescas like tamarind and horchata.   
  
"Sam," he says as his brother approaches, "I need a drink. I'll find you when I get one, okay?" With that, he takes off, ignoring Sam's yells behind him.

* * *

Jim's trek takes him into territory very much unlike the part of Long Beach he had been in not a kilometer ago. It does, however, have a distinctly Latin American feel to it, and he can hear mariachi and the folks around him are speaking Spanish. Jim's Spanish is almost non-existent, but he recognizes what he hears as such. Eventually, he finds a mom'n'pop taco place that has auguas frescas and he buys the largest size he can with a handful of credits and pocket lint. The cup of tamarindo is brimming and the walls are worryingly soft. Jim takes a big sip through the straw before he sets off, intent on finding Sam and Aurelan again. It hasn't been very long since he left them and he's not worried about catching up.   
  
He strikes off in the direction he remembers coming from. Ordinarily, he makes a point of finding landmarks and remembering street names so he can navigate back, but it occurs to him then that he didn't do a very good job of that this time, distracted as he was by thoughts of Bones and he's a bit confused by the twisty, windy residential streets that snake out of strange places. He's increasingly worried about finding his way back, as the minutes turn into half hours and then hours. It's 1600, and he left Sam and Aurelan around 1400.   
  
He finds the nearest bus stop, feeling foolish and out of sorts and brain-meltingly hot, as he sips the last of his drink and tosses it before studying the schedule and map, trying to figure out how to get where he needs to go. His brother's place is in Woodland Hills and the trip from his current location there will take about an hour and half. Jim hasn't ridden a bus in a long time - he uses the BART to get around the Bay Area and LA's buses are kind of intimidating. He also only has a couple credits left on hand, so he hopes he can transfer between lines for free. Jim's picked the route with the fewest stops accordingly.   
  
Sighing, he knows there's not much he can do about it. Instead, he settles for watching for the bus and his surroundings. He's only got about ten minutes left, but still.

It's harshly sunny, that kind of scorch-your-retinas bright that makes Jim long for the Bay Area, and he makes a mental note to bring sunglasses with him everywhere in Southern California from now on, but also pleasantly windy so close to the coast. The area has a lot of tagging, and some of what looks like brightly done murals. They're pretty awesome, he decides, for all that the area is otherwise ratty. There's one of Mickey Mouse flipping the viewer off, and some very realistic pictures of people and animals, both Terran, real, and otherwise.   
  
  
The bus comes by and after establishing that he can indeed transfer for free, he settles in the middle of the bus because there's fewer people there, though he feels even more out of place than before because everyone can see him. Jim tugs on his tie nervously and then stops, because he remembers the last time he wore this tie and fiddled with it, Bones chastised him. The trip feels extremely long until he gets distracted by the surrounding, studying the way the city shifts from dirt poor to wealthy and back again.  
  
  
Then his last stop is up and he disembarks, not too far from his brother's place.  
  
  
Sam and Aurelan are relieved and ecstatic to see him, and scold him for running off.  
  
"What are you, five?" Sam demands. "Taking off because you're uncomfortable!"  
  
He lets them because he deserves it. After that, still glaring at him, they usher him out to the backyard. He's initially bewildered, and then he sees Bones, who looks up at him from the chair by the pool with hurt and worry in his eyes.   
  
Jim swallows and can't convince he feet to _move _,__ either away from or to Bones. The other man solves it for him, pushing off the chair and moving to wrap him in a tight hug. Jim stiffens, then relaxes into the embrace, tucking his face against Bones's neck.  
  
"We were so worried about you, you fucking dipshit," Bones says as he pulls away and holds on to Jim's biceps. "Don't you dare do that again!" he snaps. "Especially without your comm!"  
  
Jim holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't, I swear. I didn't mean to leave it in my jacket pocket."  
  
"Your brother said it was off and that your last login to anything was before you even came down here," Bones says, eyes narrowed.  
  
"I," he sighs and swallows again, feeling butterflies begin to develop in his belly. "I didn't want to log in." Jim stares at Bones's shirt instead of his face. "In case there were messages I didn't know how to answer."  
  
"From who?"  
  
"You," Jim tells him. He risks a glance up and decides to bulldoze through this, because hey, it can't get any worse. He's doubtlessly fucked this up beyond all redemption. "I bolted because I...had a realization I don't know what to do with."  
  
"Which would be?" Bones asks with a mixture of anger, contempt, and worry. And maybe a little bit of hope.  
  
"It probably doesn't matter now," Jim mutters. "But, uh, I'm sort of in love with you. And what the fuck do I do with that?" He closes his eyes as Bones stills. "Yeah, that's what I thought," he says, his voice touched with bitterness and he pulls away, heading for the door.  
  
"Jim," Bones called. "You could have fucking told me."  
  
"I didn't think you'd take it well and I was terrified of fucking this up. I did anyway," Jim replies, "so it doesn't matter."  
  
"You self-centered brat," Bones shoots at him. "Did it ever occur to you I might feel the same way?"  
  
Jim pauses. "I didn't see anything that for sure indicated that," he replies.  
  
"I didn't see it in you, either," Bones says, "I thought along the same lines."  
  
Hesitating, Jim asks, "Is there still a chance we can go anywhere with this? With us?"  
  
"We can try," Bones says after a moment. "We'll have to watch out for communication issues," he adds. "Since we both apparently have issues with that."  
  
Jim gives him a smile and nods. "Yeah, we will."


End file.
